


The Hollow Earth

by Wasuremono



Category: City of Heroes
Genre: Action, Gen, Origin Story, Superheroes, Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-15
Updated: 2011-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasuremono/pseuds/Wasuremono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eastgate crumbled and took young mutant Daniel Temple's childhood with it. Five years later, he has the chance to take back his neighborhood -- and take back his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hollow Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reskel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reskel/gifts).



> My Yuletide 2008 request was a little unusual: a blank check to write a CoH-verse superhero story about original characters. It was an inherently self-indulgent premise in a fanfic festival that usually doesn't allow for said indulgence, and I enjoyed it a lot.
> 
> The core of this story is based on idle speculation on my part about life in Paragon City. Before it became the Hollows, Eastgate was a major residential area; surely there were people left in Paragon who remembered it? And surely at least some of them had superpowers? The rest flowed from there.

_October 2000_

All Daniel Temple wanted was to get home.

It had been the worst day of the year so far: wind sprints in Gym, working on the miserable group government project in Social Studies, a lecture in Algebra he'd barely understood, and then the argument with Randy at lunch that'd kept him angry the rest of the afternoon. All he wanted now was to get through the rest of the bus ride, get home, and try and convince himself eighth grade wasn't a complete drag. Daniel stared sullenly out the window, watching the bus make its way down the street. At least he only had two stops left.

He felt the first tremor through the wheel well, the vibrations traveling through his tennis shoes and straight up his spine. He was the only one to notice, he realized, glancing around at the rest of the kids on the bus; all around him, middle-schoolers talked and laughed as if nothing had happened. Must be his nerves, he told himself. They'd just hit one of those potholes on Cherrybrook Lane, but he was too tired not to startle.

Then he felt the second, strong enough to make an audible rumbling, and he knew it wasn't potholes. Potholes didn't make him feel nauseous, and they definitely didn't set off the panic he could feel pounding at his skull.

By now, even the rest of the bus had caught on. The loud, rowdy crowd was silent now, students clinging to their seats as they rumbled down the road. Daniel looked across the aisle to his brother, who was staring at the Four Seasons scenery out the window. "Alex?" Daniel hissed, leaning across his seat even as he clutched it to keep his balance. "Do you see something?"

"No, but..." Alex shot him a sick look, mouthing 'I feel something,' and Daniel nodded quickly with a grimace. What was this? An earthquake?

The next tremor came with the loud crack of concrete and earth, sending the bus swerving as the driver tried to avoid the shrapnel that had just been their lane. A girl in the back shrieked. Daniel clung to his seat as he watched helplessly out the window. All around them, the road was being shaken to pieces, the buildings along the street creaking as their foundations shattered.

This was no earthquake, and whatever it was, it was only getting stronger. He'd never felt this sick before, not from his earth-sense. Daniel squinted out to the horizon; in the distance, he could see the hills and trees of Eastgate shuddering. "Goddammit," Daniel whispered to himself. "What in the hell is goi--"

He never finished the thought. The bus driver slammed on the brakes, nearly sending Daniel into the seat-back in front of him; the whole bus began to lean forward, into the new chasm spanning the width of Cherrybrook Lane. The bus started rocking, even as the rear wheels spun futilely in reverse. Panic had taken hold now, students screaming and struggling to hold on, but Daniel knew that was only making things worse. Every movement made the rocking stronger, and that meant...

That meant that this was how it was going to end. He was going to die in the middle-school bus. Daniel curled up on his seat, clutching his legs to his chest, and did his best not to hyperventilate. All he could do was be calm, be brave, and try not to throw up, no matter how much the world spun around him.

The next few seconds crawled by, the bus gone silent again save for the creaking and low rumbling outside, until at last there was sudden motion -- not down, as Daniel had expected, but up and away.

"Hang on, kids! We're getting you out of here!"

The voice was resolute, familiar; a few of the kids dared to move and gasped as they looked out their windows. Daniel risked his own glance, and he wasn't surprised to see her: Lady Stonemind, one of Eastgate's own heroes, lifting the bus up and into the air.

Mom.

"Don't panic!" she continued. "Just hang on!" Her next sentence was silent, in that telepathic voice that always reminded Daniel of toddlerhood. _Daniel, Alex! Thank God you're both all right!_

 _We're okay, Mom,_ replied Daniel, trying to avoid the gnawing in his stomach that suggested otherwise. _What's happening?_

 _Somebody's collapsed the cave networks. They think it was a bomb, but nobody's sure, and all we can do now is help people evacuate. Your dad's still in there, and as soon as you're safe, I'm going back in. If we don't find you at the shelter by nightfall, call Mr. Montoya, and he'll get you somewhere safe, all right?_

 _Got it. ... I love you, Mom._

 _Love you too, kiddo,_ replied Lady Stonemind as they kept on flying towards safety. Below them, the growing rift swallowed trees, houses, chunks of streets -- all of Eastgate, piece by piece.

All he'd wanted was to get home, and now home was gone.

* * *

 _October 2005_

Daniel zipped up his collar and slid his hands into his coat pockets, watching the street. It was a cold night, with the full moon glowing dimly through the clouds, and the wind cutting straight through his thin jacket set his teeth on edge. Dammit, this was a simple sentry job! How could he be losing his nerve?

Behind him, the team was hard at work, still trying to break the deadbolt. Why they were trying to be so stealthy about it was a mystery to him; usually by now, one of the Torches would have melted through it and gone on in. Whatever they wanted in there, they wanted it quiet, and that didn't exactly help his peace of mind either. Quiet meant slow, and slow meant more waiting.

Something in the shadows above Daniel flickered, and there was a soft thump on one of the roofs across the street. He looked up, startled, and grabbed for the baseball bat he'd left leaning against the wall with one hand as the other gestured at the break-in team. "Guys!" he whispered hoarsely. "Someone up there!"

He'd barely gotten through "there" when the warning shot flew by him, a green energy beam that sizzled through the night and left afterimages in its wake. The shadow on the roof made its leap, cape fluttering behind him (her?). Before Daniel knew it, he was running down the street and away, heedless to the cries behind him. He couldn't... it wasn't...

He didn't want a fight tonight, and he knew he couldn't fight a hero.

Behind him were the sounds of combat: shouts, impacts, and the sizzling of those beams. He'd failed, and badly, but he was long past caring. He ran.

It should have been a fifteen-minute walk home, but Daniel made it in five, clearing the stairs three at a time and barely pausing for breath as he made his way to the apartment door. Inside, their main room was comfortably warm, the whole living area still smelling faintly of garlic bread and spaghetti sauce. Alex was at the kitchen table, math book and graph paper spread out in front of him; he looked up with a scowl as Daniel flopped down on the couch. "You're finally home."

"Sorry, Alex. Real bad night."

"They're all bad nights these days," replied Alex dryly, looking back to his homework. Daniel didn't want to admit how right he was. It had been five years since they'd lost home and Dad, and three years since Mom had thrown her life away against the Rikti, when they'd lost any hope of their lives ever feeling normal. He and Alex had managed to hold it together -- no foster homes, no adoptions, just the occasional visit from Social Services and Mom's old friends from G.I.F.T. -- but it was the kind of thing that wore at you every day, especially when you were working as hard as Daniel was. There was always been classes to scrape through, jobs to work, bills to pay, and nights of sleep to miss. The chaos had never ended, and was it really any surprise that something gave? Maybe it was self-pity, Daniel thought, but that didn't mean it was wrong.

"So," Alex began again, "what'd they have you doing this time?"

He'd learned long ago there wasn't much use lying to his brother, so he didn't bother to try. "Lookout duty," Daniel said, "for a jewelry-store break-in down in Fools' Gold. We got busted by a cape."

"You know, you used to call them heroes."

"Sorry," said Daniel quickly. "You just pick up the slang, you know? Really, nothing happened back there. Didn't even finish picking the lock, and nobody's going to be looking for me. I got lucky."

"Yeah," said Alex. "This time. One of these days, Dan, you're gonna get caught, and you're too smart not to know that. Why do you keep going out there and risking everything for the freaking Outcasts?"

And how could he answer a question like that, anyway? Daniel wasn't sure the truth was going to fly: that it was all a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, being made an offer when he needed an outlet. That they'd all just been muties like him, and they'd accepted him faster than he'd ever been accepted anywhere else. That it'd been harmless at first -- just a little graffiti, a little parkour, stuff that made Steel Canyon into a playground. That it had all gotten out of hand before he'd known it, and now what could he do?

"I dunno," he answered at last. "It's... it just seemed like a good idea at the time."

"You know they're just using you, right? Because you're a natural. Dan, Mom always told us the powers were a gift, and now you're throwing it away--"

"Goddammit, do you have to lecture me about this?"

"Just think about it, okay?" Alex sighed deeply, and Daniel cringed. God, he was all of seventeen -- his kid brother. He shouldn't have to look that old or that tired. "It's not too late to get out. The University takes applications all year long."

"I will think about it," Daniel replied, trying to give his brother a reassuring smile. "I promise. Right now, though, I need to get to bed before the adrenaline crash does it for me. Good luck on your calculus."

"Thanks. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

"I'll try." Daniel stood up from the couch, staggering to his bedroom and only barely managing to change clothes before hitting the sheets; when the crash hit, it hit hard. Still, that didn't guarantee sleep, did it? Especially when his thoughts intruded. Alex was right; this could all only end one way, and he was too smart not to understand that. But he couldn't just walk away, could he? They knew his name, and Eddie probably had a good idea where he lived, too.

Yeah, this wasn't going to be a restful night.

* * *

"Hey. Danny. Take a walk to the back room with me?"

Daniel looked up from the VCR at his workbench, not at all surprised to see Eddie glowering at him. Well, that was it for the "avoid at all costs" plan. He'd been lucky enough not to share a shift with Eddie for days, and he'd hoped that the Fools' Gold job would be ancient history by the time they were on shift together, but he should have known that was a pipe dream. These were the shifts Eddie liked best, after all: closing up shop with Daniel, then getting a chance to talk "business."

"Just a second?" said Daniel, glancing at the clock as he stood up. It was fifteen minutes before five, close enough to closing that he could swing it. He walked out into the main storefront, throwing the deadbolt on the front door and flipping the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED." Friday-afternoon business was always slow; most of the little electronics store's customers were regulars, anyway, and this late in the business day, they'd just show up tomorrow to buy components and bring in whatever they'd wrecked that week for the repair team to fix. There was no chance of some angry customer banging at the door at 4:55 and demanding they open up.

Which meant there was nothing keeping him from this little chat. Damn.

Daniel headed to the back room, where Eddie was already waiting. His coworker had always looked the part of a stereotypical Outcast, but now it was even more blatant: six-foot-one of chiseled muscle and ice-blue skin, sparks crackling in his eyes as he gave Daniel a look. "Danny," said the Shocker. "We need to talk. What happened out there on Monday night?"

"Wish I could tell you," said Daniel. "I just saw the cape, and I freaked out. There was this beam..."

"Energy beam, yeah; got that from the other guys who managed to beat the Zig. Standard cape stuff. So why didn't you stand up and fight, buddy? You going soft on me?"

"No, it's not like that. I --"

Eddie cut him off with a sudden, slick grin. "Never mind. I get you. That was your first sentry job, wasn't it? I know how the nerves can be. You got spooked, that's all, and we can forgive that. You're a stand-up guy, Danny,and you've got tons of potential. In fact, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Interested in something a little more serious?"

There was something hopeful in Eddie's tone that Daniel didn't like, but now he had to ask. "Like what?"

"Like the big time. The front lines against the Trolls. You ever wanted to go fight in the Hollows?"

"Eastgate," muttered Daniel reflexively; that slang never failed to send shivers up his spine. Eddie quirked an eyebrow, and Daniel winced. "Nothing, sorry. I, uh, we're out there?"

"Course we are," said Eddie. "We've been fighting them tooth and nail for a piece of that pie practically since they blew it up. That's valuable turf, and the more of it we have, the bigger a bang we can make in this city. Last week we secured a new safehouse, but we need some numbers out there before the next strike. What do you say about joining that crew?"

What could he say to that? Daniel felt his stomach sink, looking at Eddie and knowing there were still some requests he couldn't deny. Join the crew, the Shocker's face said, or... well, Eddie'd think of consequences, and Daniel'd seen what had happened to the last Initiate who'd pissed him off.

"Oh, sure thing," said Daniel, hating himself with every word. "When and where?"

"We meet tomorrow night at the Platinum base, 8:00. Pack a change of clothes and a little cash, got it? Think campout, Boy Scout. And thanks. You're a real special guy, Danny; you're gonna go far. Now let's get out of here before Old Man Macleod comes back."

"Right. See you tomorrow." Daniel forced himself out of the store, grabbing his bag and starting the walk home even as he felt his stomach turning. Sure, he could talk all he wanted about offers he couldn't refuse, but why in the hell hadn't he told Eddie off? Eastgate wasn't turf, goddammit; it had been a real neighborhood, and now it was a monument. Sacred ground. He could picture the fights now, the huge, stupid gang fights raging through his neighborhood. All that fresh blood on the ground, and for what? Bragging rights? Dammit, if he'd had his nerve, he could have spit in Eddie's face and walked off.

And then what, Daniel asked himself? Go to the cops, turn state's evidence? Join the witness-protection program? Keep running and hiding, and for how long?

No, maybe he'd been right after all. Maybe, just maybe, he'd given himself a chance. What was it Dad used to say? "You can't stop a bank robbery from across the street?"

Daniel let himself think as he walked, threading through the pools of light along the sidewalk, and before he knew it, he was home. Alex was out at band practice, leaving him alone in the apartment -- perfect. Alex didn't need to get in the middle of this. Swallowing hard, Daniel crossed the living room and picked up the phone.

It was now or never. Time to make his chance count.

* * *

The safehouse turned out to be no such thing: a fifth-floor apartment in Cherry Hills, in the old Atlas Commons complex, and barely safe at that. The thin plywood over the windows didn't keep out the sounds of the never-ending battle outside, and the running penny-ante poker game on the living room floor couldn't keep Daniel's mind from wandering. Even as he surveyed his cards -- two eights, a jack, a five, and a seven; garbage, in other words -- he was running through the Atlas Commons apartment numbers in his head. The Johanssen kids had been on the fourth floor, hadn't they, and Rosie Clifford and her family on third? He'd gone to somebody's birthday party on the fifth floor of this building, but maybe it was best if he didn't remember whose. Better that he not try and guess whose bloodstains lingered on the kitchen floor.

"Hey, dirt-boy. How many you want?"

The dealer, a Slammer with dirty blond hair and the eyes of a starving wolf, glared at him, and Daniel shrugged. "Eh. Gimme three?" He handed the cards over, and the Slammer sullenly dealt his replacements. A queen, a six, another eight: not great, but not fold-worthy. Good enough.

Play it cool, he told himself. Play it smooth.

Daniel was counting his pennies when the scream cut through the night: almost a bellow, really, low and pained. Trolls. Mikey next to him startled, but the Slammer just shrugged. "Don't freak, Zippo? That was a long way off. Prolly one of their rank fights. Guys fight each other like fucking animals."

"Yeah?" said Mikey, still jittery. "You seen 'em?"

"Sometimes," said the Slammer, prodding the guy next to him to bet. "They think they own the place, and until we make some progress, they kinda do. Motherfuckin' beasts! All they do is fight, burn shit, and drop Dyne. You newbies ever seen what that shit can do to you?"

Daniel shook his head, dropping in his pennies. "Call. And nah, I haven't. Heard it's nasty, though."

"You better believe it. Does crazy shit to you, 'specially if you're already a mutie. You remember those snow-things that showed up last winter all over the place?"

"Yeah?" said Mikey.

"They're what happened when old man Frostfire tried a hit of Dyne --"

The next bellow from the street was louder, definitely closer this time, and it was followed by a sound even the veterans weren't used to: sirens.

Daniel was on his feet instantly, the four others in the circle not far behind, and the bedroom door slammed open as Eddie and his crew burst out from their movie-watching. Instantly, Eddie was in command, barking orders: "Don't you dumbshits go anywhere! We lie low, we stay quiet, and we hope the cops aren't here for us!"

Hesitantly, the rest of the team took seats on the floor; Daniel followed, despite the familiar fight-or-flight burn of adrenaline he could feel in the back of his head. He knew better than to think the cops would pass the safehouse over this time. They weren't here for the Trolls.

The sirens drew closer, growing to a blaring crescendo interrupted by the sound of a police megaphone: "Gang members in 506 Atlas Commons, please surrender yourselves! We have your exits surrounded!"

Eddie silently mouthed something obscene, keeping his voice soft when he did speak again. "How the fuck? We just tied this place up!" Slowly, his eyes crept across the group. "The night I bring in the new team, we have a leak... gee, I wonder who?" At last, his gaze fixed on Daniel. "Boy Scout, you weaselly little shit!"

"What?! I didn't --"

"Get him!"

The other Initiates, only too quick to respond to Eddie's commands, were on his heels almost before Daniel could make a dash for the back. He was through the open window and halfway down the first flight of the fire escape before the others caught up, their footfalls shaking what was left of the rickety steel stairs. He leapt down the next flight of stairs, barely keeping his footing on the shuddering metal, and nearly threw himself down the flight after that.

Somewhere around the second-floor landing, Daniel felt the structure begin to shake free, and it was only with a desperate leap that he managed to clear it before the fire escape gave under the weight of him and his pursuers. He rolled clear as it crashed to earth, pulling himself to his feet and focusing for a moment on the ground under his feet: good, solid ground. Eastgate ground. He looked up at the chaos, the Outcasts struggling free of the wreckage to give chase, and he breathed in. Earth, give him strength!

Eddie was the first to reach him, hovering six feet above the ground and sneering. "Fuck you, snitch! Did you think you could get away from us?" The air crackled with ozone as he charged a bolt and hurled it down; it sizzled on contact with Daniel's shoulder, but he was surprised at how little it hurt. The adrenaline? No, something deeper -- some sense of strength he'd never felt before, some power rooting him to the earth. Daniel didn't yield an inch, looking up at Eddie and sneered in return. He could feel stone in his veins and steel in his bones, spurring him on.

"Nice try," Daniel called up to the hovering Shocker. "You think I'm a snitch? Come on down here and say it to my face!"

Eddie roared and accepted the invitation, barreling out of the sky in an air-rending charge. Daniel felt reflex take over, his fists taking on a new weight and starting to glow a dull brown-grey. Pulling back and channeling power he didn't know he had, he struck out at Eddie with a fierce uppercut; there was an audible crack as Eddie reeled back in the air, eyes rolling back in his head. He crashed to earth again atop the ruins of the fire escape, and Daniel somehow managed to smirk.

The victory didn't last long, though, as three of the Initiates rushed him at once. Daniel stood his ground, blocking the first sledge blow with one arm and throwing a sloppy punch at the wild-eyed Slammer who'd taken the shot. It was a bad punch, but the Slammer was off-balance, and he connected heavily with his shoulder. The Slammer howled defiance and swung another blow at Daniel's arm. The sickening crunch of bone told Daniel just how hard the hammer had hit, but the jolt of pain from the blow soon died away, replaced with the certainty of his cause. No, he couldn't yield now; this was ground he had to hold.

The next punch laid the Slammer out, just as a baseball bat smashed into Daniel's back. Only barely keeping himself from sprawling forward, he aimed a forceful kick backwards at the Slugger's ankle, sending the boy sprawling. Two of the others had already tried to run for it -- good luck, with the Trolls out hunting! -- but there was one last Slicer making a charge. Daniel winced, squaring his footing and cocking back his good fist. Without any other options, the Slicer charged... and a quick jab to the chin, trailing grey-brown force, laid him out cold.

As the feeling of the earth's certainty began to die away, the rest of the world came into focus for Daniel again: the ruins around him, the sirens still blaring, and the men in blue coming into view around the side of the apartment complex. The first to reach him was a tall man, lantern-jawed and glowering in concern. "What happened here?"

"I'm..." Daniel wheezed and caught his breath; something in his chest felt sore and bruised. "I'm afraid one of them guessed I was wearing the tracker, officer. I tried to get clear, but they chased me, and they tried to take me down."

"Looks like they failed, though," the PCPD officer replied. "Nice work tonight. We've been trying to crack the gang safehouse network for a while, and we've got undercover men on the scene, but every little bit helps. We'll get these guys in for questioning. Need a ride to the hospital, Daniel?"

As his head cleared, the pain was definitely starting to register -- dull in his shoulder and back, light twinges in his ribs and legs, and disturbingly sharp in his arm. "I wouldn't mind," admitted Daniel, as he tried for a grin. "If it's not any trouble?"

"For a citizen crime-fighter? No trouble at all."

* * *

The knock at the door woke Daniel from his third painkiller-induced nap of the day. Once he shook himself awake and shut off the TV, he staggered to the door to open it, wincing with every step. Even after a week and a fair amount of codeine, he was still feeling new aches from the fight and fall, and it was an open question how long he'd be regretting that little fire-escape jump. Who knew how much a twisted ankle could hurt?

A quick check at the keyhole revealed a familiar face at the door: a heavyset middle-aged man, his bright red skin and flame-orange hair a strange contrast to his Hispanic features. Daniel was quick to open the door and usher him in. "Mr. Montoya," he said. "Great to see you. How are you doing?"

"Wonderfully, thank you; yourself? And please, call me Emilio today? I'm here from G.I.F.T., but not as your guardian."

Daniel crossed into the kitchen, pulling the pitcher of iced tea from the fridge and pouring two glasses as carefully as he could. (The sooner he got his arm out of the cast, the better, he thought.) "Can we compromise on Mr. M?"

Mr. Montoya chuckled, settling into the couch as Daniel brought the tea. "Well, if you insist," he replied. "Anyway, to make a long story short, the PCPD called us and wanted us to come speak to you."

"What about?" Daniel couldn't help but wince. "Is there something wrong?"

"Far from it," replied Mr. Montoya, grinning brightly for a moment. "They wanted us to tell you that they're very impressed by your sting operation, both your volunteering and your actual ability to execute it. Apparently they've had some luck shaking down the gangers you subdued, too; there are some whispers that you might have helped blow open a fairly large portion of the Outcast operation in Eastgate. Pretty good work for your first Citizen Crime-Fighting Act job, Sergeant Chambers says."

"... Thanks," said Daniel, once he managed to get that out. "It's -- it's just what I had to do. The minute I learned they were in Eastgate..."

Mr. M nodded. "You're a brave young man, Daniel, and I'm proud of you. Your parents would be, too. Your father always told me Eastgate was his favorite place in the world and that he was overjoyed to be raising his family there." The end of that thought didn't need saying: what his father had given in the end to defend it, and how little had come of that sacrifice. "That's what the PCPD wanted me to talk to you about," continued Mr. M. "They're making progress, especially with heroes on the job, but they need dedicated people prepared to put a long-term effort into the cleanup. The heroes they've got are good people, Daniel, but they're out-of-towners with a lot on their plates. It doesn't mean to them what it means to you."

"So," said Daniel, "they want me to put on the cape?"

"You always were good at getting to the point. It's not a choice you have to make immediately, of course, given your injuries, but it's an option that's on the table."

"And this isn't a community-service thing? I know I've got everything from the past couple of years with the Outcasts to work off."

"Already cleared," said Mr. M. "A gift from the city. Besides, you wouldn't be the first hero to start service without a lily-white record. You're surely not the only young mutant to succumb to the lure of that gang, and that means you understand better why we need them off the street."

"I guess you're right," said Daniel. "I really wish I could accept right away, Mr. M, and I'm sorry, but I need time to think. I'd be honored to serve, but I've got these applications to the University to get done, and it's just a lot to sort out."

Mr. M smiled again, more gently this time. "You've got a great deal ahead of you, and you need to figure out your own future first. Take as long as you need, and call me at the agency if this is a path you decide to walk." He finished off his tea. "I wish I could stay, but the office needs me. Rest well, feel better, and you know where I am if you need me."

"Got it. Thanks, Mr. M." Daniel stood up to show him out, only letting his mind process it once he'd returned to the chair. They wanted him to take up the mantle; they wanted him in Eastgate. He knew too well what a hard life it was, but it was hard to deny the pull he'd felt there -- the pain when the land was shattered, and the strength it had given him when he'd come back to it. There'd always been something special about Eastgate to him, and maybe it was calling him home.

He had a few weeks to think, at least, while his arm healed and he sorted out college. (The professor he'd spoken to in the engineering department had been excited about his high-school transcript, strangely enough, and the expression on Alex's face alone when he'd told him about the visit sealed the deal.) Maybe he'd never be a full-time hero; maybe he'd never be a hero outside of Eastgate. Still, Paragon was his city, and if there was one place you had to be loyal to, it was home.

He'd make Eastgate somebody's home again if it was the last thing he did, thought Daniel as he leaned back in the chair, growing drowsy again. He'd make the Hollows whole.


End file.
